Snow Song

 As snow falls upon moonlit shadows,

I dance through dreams, ...

stepping softly

into the quiet repose

of a still and whispered soul,

while the elegance of a distant star bends gracefully,

gathering me into the song

of my own spirit, ...

a spirit whose music lay unsung, ...untouched,

hidden behind anonymous eyes

and left, silently abandoned,

long ago.

Hushed by the steadfast pace of survival,

it is a spirit with a child’s voice, ...

a voice perhaps,

more familiar than my own.

One which speaks

 through the wisdom of watching, ...

one which has waited,

as lucid stillness often does,

for tomorrow’s harsh complexity to turn back

and rediscover yesterday’s simple joy.

A yesterday

which reaches for me now,

as if it were a faraway song, ...drawing me near,

calling me into its young, unburdened refrain.

Awakened

 by its own mysterious rhythm,

it is a song filled with gentle curiosity, ...

a song which beckons

with arms like willow branches,

seemingly fragile,

but stronger made by the seasons of the wind.

A masterpiece of divine knowingness,

hallowed by the moon

and clearly seen

as a sinuous silhouette

against the pale backdrop

of a steel blue evening.

Like a snow song unfolding,

the voice of the child

sings midnight into morning,

lifting her prism solo toward the sky.

Each word

slowly becoming my own mellifluous verse, ...

each note, ...

rising in a crescendo,

arriving crystalline and true,

like new fallen snow

majestically written into the poetry of dawn.

The music of wonder laughs, ...

sparkling,

like diamonds scattered

upon splendid drifts of white,

as if my own song were a perfect gift

held lovingly in a child’s hand.

The child, ...who has,

for so long,

waited patiently for me to return, ...

the child of forgiveness

who reaches for me now,

as I lift her from that still and hidden place

and hold her gently in my arms.

She sings for me again,

and I, for her, ...

we are two voices touching, ...

the miracle of one melodious note finding another, ...

a lyric of long-forgotten light

carried by the echoes of the heart,

moving far beyond the hollow breath of flutes,

sweeping,

like a winter’s waltz,

past the shadow of the drum.

We are one spirit dancing,  

one poem, ...softly spoken,

as if, together, we are

the muse of sacred serenades,

sharing the whispered words of wisdom

found deep within

the silent songs of snow.

- Heather K. O’Hara -

PHOTO: Oscar Gutierrez ©2005 www.OGphoto.com

Snow Song ©2005 Heather K. O'Hara www.Quantum-Grace.com